


Toward the Sunshine

by thesudokukid



Series: Team Genius [1]
Category: BioShock Infinite, Criminal Minds
Genre: Alternate Reality, Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Crossover, Crossovers & Fandom Fusions, Multi
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-05-27
Updated: 2015-07-02
Packaged: 2018-04-01 12:17:17
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 7,301
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4019443
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thesudokukid/pseuds/thesudokukid
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"Keep your face always toward the sunshine - and shadows will fall behind you."- Walt Whitman</p><p>Elizabeth Dewitt/Lutece and Spencer Reid are two people who are pretty unlucky, generally speaking. So when then, did they develop the ability to be optimistic despite their lives? But why do we ask "when in their lives did it develop?" when the delicious question is "how did they keep the ability?"</p><p>Well are you going to just sit there or are you going to come backstage and find out? Come in, take a seat, hope you enjoy the show.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Paperwork to Fill Out

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Reid gets help convincing himself that Bennington is the right place for his mother. Help from a source Comstock and Charles "Songbird" Hankel will never, ever expect. The lamb of Columbia herself.
> 
> This is a revision. I still have the original version if you want it. Also I'm making Smoke and Mirrors its own little thing. More details on that as it develops.

Today is the day I’m making a decision I might regret. A big decision. Putting my mother into Bennington.

“We're making the right decision,” I say. “Aren't we?” I hope we are. Dear God I hope we are.

Elizabeth sighs, “I think so. It'll hurt at first but she'll get used to it, after a while. It'll hurt less. She'll understand. Just try not to hate yourself when we go home tonight. Please.”

I nod, “I know but being aware that it'll take a while...that doesn't make it easier. And about not hating myself, not exactly sure if I'll be able to do it. Thanks for trying anyway though, that kind of...helps.”

She smiles, “That's what I'm here for. I'm just glad I got to help. Call me if you have any problems tomorrow, please. I don't get to do much inside my little tower. Talking to you more often would...certainly be different.”

Then she flinches and steps back, steps away, “Uh, sorry. Sorry. That was probably rude. I-”

I cut her off by expressing my thankfulness again, “It's nice that they let you out of there for once. I'm glad you're here, really. I was almost worried I'd have to do this alone.”

And then to myself, “I _really_ didn’t want to do this alone.”

“Well, like I said that's what I'm here for,” she says. She shrugs, “My job's to make sure you don't have to do this alone. Did you _really_ think I'd skip out on today of all days? I mean really Spen it's almost like you don't know me at all.”

Getting half a chuckle out of me is a compliment today, “Sorry, sorry. Forgot who was talking to for a minute there.”

“Yeah,” she says. “You did.”

That gets her another half before I change the subject to something darker. To an issue we're both skirting around.

“I'll do the same thing for you if anything ever happens to...you know.”

“My 'parents',” Elizabeth asks. “Yeah, thanks, Spen, I appreciate it. But, uh, all those things I've heard Songbird talk about in my tower, they're making me start to doubt what's fake and what's reality.”

“And the reality would be...”

“That we're friends. _Best_ friends and nothing and no one, not even God himself, will ever change that.”

I nod, “That's kind of big talk coming from a small girl isn't it?”

She smirks at me, “That's the idea.”

And there's another half.

“Of course it is,” I say. “But...try not to doubt it. You and I've known each other since we were about five years old, d'you really think I'd just drop you like a rock?”

“Pssh, I hope not,” she says.

So I give her a look, “Seriously though, do you?”

“Noooo?” She chuckles, “No, uh, no. Sorry. I-I don't mean to doubt you. Really I don't. But this is the last time, I'm doubting you, I swear.”

“I'm prepared to be doubted,” I say. “Sometimes encouragement is necessary. Ask your question.”

She bites her lip, “You _do_ mean it, don't you? When you say you won't hurt me? Because I've had people promise me something like that before and-”

She doesn't get to finish her sentence.

“Always,” I say. “I'll always mean it.”

“Always,” she asks.

“Always,” I confirm. “Promise. That's what you and I are supposed to do you know? Protect each other. I'd be a pretty terrible protector if I hurt the girl I promised to protect, wouldn't I?”

“Hmm, maybe a little.”

Then my eyes turn towards the ground because I realize that also sort of halfway applies to myself and my mother.

***

It's not long until Elizabeth's there with her hand on my shoulder.

“You okay?”

All I do is shake my head and before I know it I'm hugging her or maybe clinging, considering how tight the hugging is.

If I had to venture a guess as to why she's allowing it my response, other than stress reduction, would probably be to say that it's for health reasons. Mostly mental health reasons as that's what hugging is typically best for. Things like lowering the stress hormone cortisol, making it easier to sleep, things like that. Things everyone probably needs a little help with now and then. Kind of like us. Actually, especially, like us.

And it's a hard day for Elizabeth too so I let her hug me tightly. Well I say _let_ , I'm fairly sure that's actually my preference when it comes to hugging. I find the deep pressure to be quite calming.

It's kind of nice to know she believes I can protect her. The only other person who thinks that is my mother. She'd be proud of us for doing this, I think. Looking after each other when it's such a hard day for both of us. And that's honestly the best I can ask for.

Elizabeth eventually losens her grip on me and lets me nestle my face into her shoulder. Lets me hide there as long as I want. And it gets a little harder not to cry. Because while I do get to keep her for today, I won't get to keep her forever. Not really. But I get to keep both her and my mother today. I can't help being grateful for that. For today's little victory.

I'm even more grateful when she starts rubbing my back and whispering gently to me. Telling me that it'll okay. That it'll be fine. I try to believe it, at least for her sake. I'd want her to do the same with positions reversed. So I let myself do it. Let myself believe that it'll be fine. An attempt at comforting is usually a goal on day like today. Although I will admit lowering cortisol is typically a side goal.

After a while I don't feel the need to cry anymore so I stand there, still hugging her, trying to breathe the moment in, trying to commit every last word, touch, and smell to memory.

 _Hopefully all this can help me later when I realize how lonely things are without my mom._ Those are my thoughts when Elizabeth finally pulls away from me. The thoughts I have right before I get a sinking feeling in my chest. A sinking feeling which I push down quickly because I don't get to keep her forever and I need to remember that.

Because as I've mentioned earlier. I'm just borrowing her for now. Kind of like a library book. One of my favorite books. Because as much as the thought upsets me, she can't stay with me forever. I don't get to keep her forever.

It hurts to remember that. It hurts to remember that I get most of today with her and part of tomorrow and then I'll have to give her back. Return her and pray she's still alive the next time I try to visit. That they didn't kill her with one of their little “experiments.”

If there's one thing I'm consciously aware of, more than almost anything else, it's that I can't keep her safe forever. That I can barely keep her safe at all.

But right here, right now, that's not as much of a worry. Because she's still mine. And because I know how to keep her safe out here while I don't when she's in there.

Out here I can keep her perfectly, amazingly safe and no one will touch her. In there It's all I can do to keep her alive and unharmed.

It's unfair that I don't get to keep her for longer. But thankfully, for this stupidly short moment I don't need anyone's help with protecting her. Because, strangely, she seems to believe that I'm more than good enough at protecting her. More than good enough _for_ her.

And the worst thing about it is that it won't last. That some day, someone will come along and just...replace me. She can't just be mine forever. I can't just keep her on loan forever and avoid returning her. But also that I _do_ have to return her to Columbia and I _don't_ get to free her just yet.

God, I wish I could. I _wish_ I could. I guess that's why I should stop wishing and find a way to save her, huh? And I will but only _after_ today is over. And my rambling. I'll have to stop rambling and enjoy this while it's still a moment and not a memory. I think I'll allow it a little longer though. Really I almost have to. Because the sooner I stop mentally rambling the sooner I have to take her back. The sooner I have to... _return_ her. And I don't want to do that. Not just yet.

It'd be nice if times like today were longer. If every day could be like today. Wandering around, showing her things, keeping her happy. Forever with Elizabeth? I almost can't imagine anything better. Actually it kind of sounds like heaven. And I bet it will be for whoever's lucky...enough. Hopefully it'll be me. Hopefully. Don't get me wrong I'll stick around if it isn't but the thing is, I'd rather not watch her get the deal of a lifetime with someone else. That seems kind of like torture. I mean if I have to, for her sake, I will. Of course I will. We've been friends since kindergarten. But, well, watching her be happy with someone else? Yeah, that's just gonna suck.

Elizabeth taps me on the shoulder and I jump.

It takes her at least half a minute to stop laughing.

“Hey, Spen,” she says. “What were you thinking about? Well, I mean, before I scared you half to death.”

I decide, for some reason that today is a good day to try lying to her. Just a little one though. Please note, I usually can't open my mouth without inserting my foot. Figuratively, of course.

“...Library books.”

“Well, I hope they were good ones,” she says.

“They were,” I say. Actually that's a damn lie, they were completely terrible but in the metaphor of Elizabeth equaling a library book it's actually the best book I've ever read.

***

I'm pretty sure that bit about the library books was a lie but I don't say it out loud. Instead I just hug him again, signalling the end of our little moment out here.

***

Elizabeth is the one who breaks the silence when we let go.

“Better,” she asks.

I gulp and nod. I'm almost out of time to keep her safe.

“A little,” I say. I kind of wish I could take her hand, “Come on now, I've got paperwork to fill out.”

Then, like a mind reader, she takes my hand and that makes smile, just a little. Because it reminds me that she's here. That she understands. I'm just not sure if I'll be able to let her go again. I certainly hope I won't be able to anyway. I'd rather not let Columbia get its hands on Elizabeth permanently. The times they've hurt her have been far too close to killing her. And if they keep experimenting on her, I don't doubt she'll end up with a halo and a set of wings.

Hopefully that won't happen before I can get her out. I'm not ready to lose her to their stupidity just yet. Or at all actually. I'd rather not see her added to Columbia's pantheon of angels. She's too beautiful to have her memory stained like that.

And if that means I'll be remembering her alone I'm fine with it. I just don't want their grubby little minds destroying Elizabeth and everything she stood for. I don't want her to be twsted into something that she isn't. I want her to be remembered as the girl I know her to be. Not as that stupid non-existent fairytale Comstock is sure to dream up. Never, ever, ever that one.

Never.

 


	2. Smoke and Mirrors or How Elizabeth Escaped

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Reid helps Elizabeth escape from the tower. 
> 
> Also Charles beats on a door, beats up his son Tobias, shouts at Tobias, and throws a case at Spen's head. Thought you should know up front. Also I call him Songbird on a few occasions rather than Charles. 
> 
> That's because he's this universe's equivalent of Songbird which is why I've tagged Songbird even though Songbird makes no actual appearances. However I do have an AU planned wherein Reid is Elizabeth's other companion and is there when Booker shows up so maybe he might?

Elizabeth's hand extends, almost naturally, towards a face she only sees in dreams now. And Spencer bless him, leans forward enough for her to touch his face. Placing his hand over hers to assure himself that she's real too.

“Are you real,” she asks.

He nods then takes his hand off hers so she can have her hand back. And he hugs her.

“I'm real enough.”

Then the whistle sounds. The one that lets Elizabeth know Songbird is coming. Then he comes stomping up the stairs and the reunion gets cut short.

“He's coming,” she says. She pushes him towards a bathroom, “Y-you've gotta go.”

Spencer turns to look at her, alarmed, “Why?”

She shakes her head, “You don't wanna be here when he gets here. Trust me,”

He nods and looks to the closet before walking towards it. Then footfalls start falling on the steps and Elizabeth's breathing gets quicker.

And the banging on the door to Elizabeth's private library begins.

***

Elizabeth sits down on the floor and unties her shoes then reties them. One time, two times, three times, four.

Then Charles “Songbird” Hankel really starts wailing on the door. It's almost like it called his mother fat or something.

“Just a minute,” she shouts. “I'm getting dressed!”

And then the banging stops temporarily. She almost goes to answer the door until...

“Ethan and I can get you out of here.”

She shakes her head and whispers as Charles begins beating up his son Tobias.

“There's no way out, trust me Spen, I've looked.”

He nods and starts inspecting the bathroom she nearly shoved him into. She doesn't bother paying too much attention. After all, there's nothing that interesting in her bathroom. Well, not to her knowledge anyway.

***

I start looking in the bathroom for any other doors that'll lead me somewhere. I only find one. It leads, as expected, to Elizabeth's room. I'm surprised to find drawings of me, another friend of hers, and the jackass keeping her locking in here. There's even a nicely done painting of Paris.

Then I notice, when I block out the screams, that there's a mirror that doesn't quite look right. I knock on the mirror just be sure. I'm disappointed but not surprised to hear a hollow sound that makes me think I'm knocking on glass. We've always had a suspicion they were watching her. I was just praying we weren't right. But unfortunately we are. Great. Juust great.

Having learned that I go back out to join Elizabeth, hoping that things will still go as planned.

***  
Then the beating stops and the banging starts back up again. Harder. Honestly they're just lucky that door is a bank vault level door. But that door won't hold forever so she needs to get Spen moving and quickly.

She goes back to untying and retying her shoes, thinkng up a plan all the while. Five times, six times, seven times, more.  
Finally she gets up off the floor having decided that she's done it enough times.

“Stop it! You're too impatient! That's _enough_!”

The banging stops again and the stomping goes away from them.

Then Spen shows her the key that apparently went missing a few weeks back.

“W-what about this?”

She knows it's important but not how or why it's important. So she asks.

“What about it?”

“Well this is the way out, isn't it,” he asks.

“W-what are you...?” Then she snatches the key out of his hand, “Give it to me!”

A weird chirping noice rings out as she tries it out on the bankvault level door. She's surprised to see that it leads into a hallway.

“Huh... It's a way out,” she says. “Come on, this way!”

She races ahead of Spen and tries not to let the blaring alarms bother her. Songbird yelling at his son as they pass his room is bad enough.

But Songbird's going after them when he sees them on the lower level is even worse because he's so violent about. He even grabs a vase and throws it near Spen who's barely able to escape it.

“Why is he doing this?!

She risks looking back, “Ugh, I've already told you. It's his job to keep me locked up in here, remember?!”

“We'll see about that!”

“Why did you come here?” Then sees a hallway that seems to lead outside and turns again to see him panting, “This way, come on!”

She turns right at the end of the hall and she can hear him struggling to keep up with her tiny, little legs. His shout of “wait!” certainly seems to support her theory anyway.

They get to the end of the second hall only to find a door neither of them can open. So they push on it together, run like hell, and don't stop until they get to Ethan's truck.

But the best part is Spen's shout when they get there. “Drive fucking drive!” And Ethan floors it leaving Songbird in the dust.


	3. What Am I?/Smoke and Mirrors II

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This came after I realized that I didn't have Elizabeth figure out they were watching her in Smoke and Mirrors. I figured I needed to fix that so I wrote this. The "Battleship Bay" Part will come right after Half a Shot Glass which I'm also putting up today.
> 
> Basically Elizabeth finds out she was watched while in the tower, wonders why it happened, and Spen tries comforting her.
> 
> Edit: Here's a better version which I'm much, much prouder of.

I leave the diner when I see the Luteces standing near the backend of Ethan's truck.

Elizabeth stands up to leave with me but I shake my head at her. Something tells me this needs to be done alone.

I just hope they're not here to give me any bad news. I've had enough of that for a lifetime.

***

“What it,” I ask. “What do you need?”

“We're here to make a delivery,” Robert says. “It's from a friend of Elizabeth's. The one you heard being beaten.”

That makes me feel a little sick so I just nod, “Go on.”

“He says that it's important for her to know about but asks that you treat things delicately. She's not going to be happy when she sees the delivery we know that much,” Rosalind says.

I open my mouth to ask something but Robert stops me, “However we weren't told much about what's inside the envelope. Only that it contains proof she was being watched. You can figure out the rest for yourself I'm sure.”

“I can,” I say. “I'm not sure I'll want to.”

Then Rosalind takes the envelope from Robert's hand and passes it off to me. I look down at it, my attention caught by the shaky writing of Elizabeth's name. And the shaky writing makes me wonder, is that an affereffect of the beating or from what the evelope contains? Or...possibly, both?

I look up again at the sound of Rosalind's voice.

“Do try not to lose your head about the contents. You were aware she was probably being watched but not how much she was being watched. I apologize for what you'll find.”

So she was one of the people watching her then. I suppose that's okay. Maybe.

***

Ethan must be doing a good job of distracting her because it's been two minutes I still don't see any sign of her.

I climb into the backend with my gratefulness in mind. I'll probably pay him for it or something. Haven't quite decided yet.

***

I open the envelope when I'm settled and start wishing, immediately, that I hadn't. Why? They're of Elizabeth but here's the thing, they're of Elizabeth in various states of undress. They're taken while she's in the middle of changing.

No wonder Rosalind apologized. They must've done this after she died though. I can't imagine her approving this for the peeping toms on her team. I don't think she was aware they even were any. Which isn't good because if she had been the would've been fired on the spot. At least I hope they would've anyway.

I shudder involuntarily at the photos and their contents. I can feel a bit of bile coming into my throat and struggle to keep it down.

Especially when Elizabeth leaves the diner sooner than I intended.

“Hey Spen, what's going o-”

***

My sentence stops short and I feel my eyes widen. Then I climb into the backend for a better look praying that I'm not seeing what I think I'm seeing. Although, going by the look on Spen's face I'm wrong. I have to be. They can't just be pictures of me. Not with that queasy look on his face.

Which means they're most definitely pictures of me changing. Of me in various states of undress.

I start picking up the pictures when I'm comfortable, relatively speaking. I don't rest my head on Spen's shouder this time. He's seen them once and he looks absolutely sickened by it. I won't be the one to make him see them again. Not for anything.

When it finally sinks in that I'm wronger than wrong I let my head hit the back of the truck. It doesn't hit quite as hard as I thought it would. Mainly because Spen's arm is on the back window, shielding me from getting hurt.

I take it as an invitation to rest my head on his shoulder again and take it gladly. Letting my head be on his shouder is comforting to say the least. And right now, I need all the comfort I can get.

***

We sit there in silence for what feels like hours but is really just minutes.

“Hey,” Spen says. “Talk to me.”

And so I do. Although it's really more like I'm talking to myself. And that's probably because I _am_ talking to myself.

“So this is what Toby wanted to show me,” I say. “That they were watching me.”

“I'm sorry,” he says.

“Don't be,” I say. “It's just hard to believe that they were watching me all this time.”

Then I start sobbing and I try to stop quickly for Spen's sake. But that only makes me feel even worse so I just let myself cry while he holds onto me.

“I should've told you,” he says. “There was a two way mirror in your dining room. I meant to but-”

“There was a lot going on that day,” I say. “It's not your fault.”

I hug him, “Why do you think they did this to me? Wh-What I do to deserve this?”

“Nothing,” he says. “Absolutely nothing. They shouldn't have done that to you.”

“I know,” I say. “But that's just making me wonder what I am.”

“Elizabeth,” he says. “You're a person not a-”

“No,” I say. “Let me try and talk this out. Clearly they only ever saw me as a science experiment. Something that wasn't human. So what does that make me then?”

“Elly,” he pleads.

He tries pulling me closer but I push him off and climb back down.

“Oh my god,” I say. “Oh my god. They never saw me as human. No one ever once said, 'hey maybe we shouldn't be doing this.' None of them...did my aunt Rosalind-”

“I'm sure she didn't approve those,” he says. “They probably waited until after she died to-”

“I know,” I say. “I know. And what hurts is she's probably the only person on that team that saw me as human. That actually cared about me and didn't see me as a 'what' instead of a who. I-I...what am I? WHAT AM I? Because if the only person on that team who saw me as human is basically my mother or my aunt or whoever then I can't really be... I can't really be human, can I?”

Spen climbs off and hugs me even as I try not to let him. If he were anyone else I'd consider fighting it but he's Spen and I need it so I just let it happen.

“You're human,” he says. “You are. I promise.”

“Then why would they,” I ask. “Why-Why would they do that to me?”

He pulls me closer, “You want me to tell you something?”

“What,” I ask.

“It'll get better,” he says. “Maybe not today, maybe not tomorrow, but it'll get better.”

“Okay,” I say.

“Hey,” he says. “Hey. Look at me for a second?”

I look up at him, “What?”

“You want me to tell you who you are,” he asks.

“Please? I'm not sure I remember. Not after knowing what they did to me.”

“That's okay,” he says. “That's okay. It's fine. Now I'm gonna go to the backend and put all the pictures back where they should be. I'm gonna hide the envelope somewhere you're not gonna look and we're gonna sit there in the backend and I'll tell you, okay?”

“Okay,” I say. Then I pull back and look at him, “I don't have to talk do I?”

He shakes his head, “No. Of course not. We don't have to talk. Not in the least. Just...promise me something?”

“Anything,” I say.

“Don't run off while I'm hiding them?”

“Okay,” I say. “I won't.”

“Good,” he says. “Close your eyes and I'll tell you when I'm done.”

“Promise?”

“Promise.”

***

Seeing the backend without the pictures is like seeing a crime scene that's been scrubbed clean. The blood's gone and everything looks good again but you can still imagine the impressions everything left behind. That nice clean wall in your house makes you feel a little frightened whenever you look at it. A peaceful meadow where a body was found makes mothers cringe slightly when their children play in it.

But maybe, hopefully, the impression will fade with time. Seeing the backend now is just like that.

Spen's the one who washes away the impresions into nothingness. The one who makes it all fade away. So I get into the backend this time, feeling a little safer than usual. Even with the very faint impressions I can still feel hovering around.

Neither of us talks. We just let the silence hover in the air. Silence beween us has pretty much always been comfortable. There's been a time or two when it's seemed like a solid impenetrable barrier but for the most part silence between us is what it's supposed to be. A time to get your thoughts into working order. A time to puzzle out what you're going to say.

And finally after about five mintues of pure, comforting silence I solve the puzzle.

“You still like jello, don't you?”

Spen's silent for a moment, probably processing what I just said. I don't mind. It's kind of a strange thing to ask someone.

“Yeah,” he says. “I do. And uh, you still like apple pie, right?”

“I dunno,” I say. “Maybe. I've been told that I do but it's hard to figure it out.”

“Let me help you,” he says. “I'll give you a hint. The girl they see you as? She doesn't exist.”

“Why,” I ask.

“I asked you that once and you told me that you learned to hide. That people have only ever seen what they've wanted to see. And also that there's a world of difference between what we see and what is. So, take their impression of you, flip it, tell me what you see.”

I smile, “Demonic heathen child that treats people of all races the same.”

“What for,” he asks.

“Because the stupid girl doesn't believe in white supremacy like everyone else does. Because she actually thinks for herself, uses her head, _and_ takes pride in what she believes in.”

“And?”

“And because she's got the devil inside her and the poor bitch doesn't know any better. They want to teach her different.”

“Will they?”

“God I hope not,” I say.

“Why,” he asks.

“Because that actually sounds like the kind of girl I'd like to meet.”

“Well it should be,” he says. “That's the kind of girl you are. Just take out all the negative wording and-”

***

“And there's your girl,” she says. “Well, I mean not-”

She sighs and looks down at her hands.

“Sorry,” she says. “Sorry. Didn't mean to.”

“You're fine,” I say. “You're fine. No need to apologize. Well not really anyway.”

“So are you gonna tell me who I am?”

“What?”

“You said you were gonna tell me,” she says. “Do you really think you're gonna get away with breaking your promise that easily?”

***

He starts stuttering and his hand starts rubbing the back of his neck.

“Well-”

“I'm waiting.”

***

I scramble back onto the truck again.

How the hell do I explain it without coming across like a weirdo?  
I hug her again while I'm thinking about it. She doesn't object, probably because she knows it helps me think better.

And finally, I think of something.

“You paint. You dance. You feel safer when your head's on my shoulder. You've never liked letting people down. And you think better when you tie your shoes.”

 _And I'll never let them hurt you again._ I think. _Promise._


	4. Half a Shot Glass

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ultra-long chapter this time. This idea happened when I remembered Elizabeth is a mega-lightweight and Reid looks like he could hold a beer or two. Then I remembered the club in P911 and this story happened.
> 
> The outfit Elizabeth is wearing is the one that comes up if you type in "Elizabeth cotton candy." The outfit she changes into is the one from "Elizabeth burial at sea."
> 
> Basically Elizabeth is a lightweight, Reid holds a seminar, and Morgan talks Elizabeth into letting him pour half a shot glass of really weak beer into her coke can. You can figure out for yourself what happens next.

“…Which is why you should never give Elizabeth any kind of alcohol, any questions?”

I’m trying not to look at the clock too much but it’s hard. I should be at her apartment looking after her but she asked me to stay here and work and I can’t focus which is why this seminar even happened. Because I needed to work on something but I also needed to help Elizabeth. Holding this seminar was the best way to do both.

Hotch raises his hand, “Shouldn’t you be home looking after Elizabeth?”

Those words make me want to run out and go straight to Elizabeth’s apartment but I can’t because it’s not noon yet. Why the hell did I agree?

“Yeah, Pretty Boy,” Morgan agrees. “Why are you here with us when you should be taking care of your girl?”

That’s just making things even worse. Not just because he reminded me of my obligation but also because he implied Elizabeth’s sort of my girlfriend. She’s not by the way. Shouldn’t be too much of a surprise. After all she is, you know, Elizabeth.

“She wants to try being social,” I say. “She also wants me to join her but I’m not prepared for that yet and she’s kind of nervous about her inability hold liquor. This was the compromise.”

“All right, then Lover Boy,” Elle asks. “Why hold the seminar?”

I don’t comment on the Lover Boy nickname and answer the question.

“She’s decided it’s probably time to socialize more. That it might be best to join you when you go out on social outings and things. I’d rather stay home but I don’t want to hold her back or let her get hurt. And for the record Elizabeth asked me to complete at least half a day’s work before I went home.”

“So that’s why you keep staring at the clock,” Gideon says. “Good. I was starting to get worried for you.”

He turns to the others, “Tell me, how long do you think that presentation took to make?”

“Probably about eighteen hours,” JJ says. “At least if the detail is anything to go by anyway. Then again this is Reid we’re talking about here.”

“Six,” I correct. My voice speeds up as I keep talking.“Well, six and a half. I-I start to get obsessive when I’m worried. I worry a lot. Especially about her.”

“We can tell sugar pop,” Garcia says. “Go take care of her. And if she asks, you tried to resist.”

I look over at the clock, see that it’s finally noon, and feel so relieved I can’t control my excitement as I toss my folder onto a table.

“Finally, I can take care of her!”

Then I start packing everything, quickly, and stop in the middle of it. I have to call her. She needs to know I’m coming.

And I start leaving with a phone to my ear only to have Garcia run over to me with my satchel.

The laughing I hear as I walk away is a little more than I can handle.

***

Two weeks later Elizabeth is perfectly healthy again and Spen has surprisingly decided to join her and everyone else on a social outing. But then it’s not too surprising either, he’s been hovering over her for the past two weeks and there _is_ a trivia game happening over at a back table.

Seems like Morgan took Reid’s seminar to heart though since he’s hanging out with her instead of being on the dance floor. Which is why she’s so surprised when he suggests that she try building up her alcohol resistant.

The idea makes her a little uncomfortable but Spen’s not too far away so she should be fine, right?

“I’d have to start really small though,” Elizabeth says.

“That’s fine, I was just gonna get half a shot glass of some weak beer and mix into your coke can. That’s okay isn’t it?”

She looks at the back table where Spen is again and feels a little calmer, a little safer. Then she turns back to Morgan, “Yeah. I guess so. Besides he’ll help me out if it’s too much for me. Or at least ask why I keep looking over at him. Now if you’ll excuse me I have to go to the bathroom.”

“Why?”

“I have an outfit that I want to try out,” she says. “I figured tonight would be as good a night as any. I’ll see you in a minute.”

***

I walk over to talk to Morgan about Elizabeth looking over me. There has to be a reason why she was doing it so often. Was she trying to ask me for help? Guess I’ll have to find out anyway.

Morgan thanks the bar tender for the shot glass, gives a tip, and then picks up Elizabeth’s coke can. It doesn’t register as weird. At least not at first anyway.

“Is there any reason why Elizabeth kept looking over in my direction? Not that I mind or anything but-”

Then he starts pouring the content’s into her coke can and I lose my mind.

“What the hell are you doing to my girl’s drink?”

Then Morgan looks up at me, “Chill kid. She gave me permission.”

There are so many things wrong with what Morgan’s just said that my jaw locks up and nails dig into the palm of my hand. It takes me at least half a minute before I can speak to Morgan without wanting to hurt him.

“No. She trusts me and I am not letting her down. You’re not talking me out of it that easily.”

***

I stand there lecturing him for maybe fifteen minutes and Elizabeth’s still not back yet which is starting to worry me. She’s not throwing up in the bathroom is she?

“So in conclusion I’d just like to know why the hell you’re spiking her drink even after that seminar I gave,” I say. “Because she’s been through a lot and she honestly deserves far better than she’s gotten.”

“I’ve been trying to tell you for the past fifteen minutes but you won’t-”

I cut him off because I’m not in the mood. I can’t be. Not when it’s Elizabeth’s safety at stake.

“Of course I’m not listening,” I say. “We’re talking about Elizabeth. If we were talking about anyone else I might believe you but Elizabeth is a nice, smart girl and I can’t just stand here and let you hurt her.”

“You like her don’t you,” Morgan asks.

My hand starts shaking, “So what if I do? It’s not like it matters. You really think if Elizabeth needs a pretend date she’d pick someone like me? I mean the idea of someone like me being with someone like her just isn’t believable. And anyway that’s not the point. The point is that you could’ve hurt her and I can’t just let that pass.”

***

She snorts at that last bit and he turns around with an embarrassed, horrified expression that likely matches the look on her own face.

She tries not to let her expression change to bashfulness as Spen’s eyes linger on her longer than usual. He’s clearly seen what she’s wearing. It’s an outfit Elle and the others helped her figure out. A “dressed to kill” kind of outfit. And it’s pretty clear, at least to her, that it worked.

She knows for sure that it worked when Morgan gives her a pick-up line.

“Woah girl, are you from France 'cause maDAMN.”

Morgan’s so much like a brother to her that the pick up line gets her laughing. She waits until she gets her breath back then snickers.

“Maybe later sweetheart.”

And then she collapses into another laughing fit.

***

I smile at Elizabeth as she tries to stop laughing. Then she turns bashful and I can’t help staring at her because somehow her bashfulness is even more adorable then before she changed outfits.

Then she asks a question that makes me want to disappear.

“You really like me?”

“Y-Yeah, of course I do. Well, I mean no, not-” 

She stops the rambling by kissing my cheek, “You talk too much. You're okay though, it's cute. Bye.”

I want to go after when she's gone so we can talk about it but Morgan's laughter shocks me enough to make me stay. By the time I get my focus back she's gone or at least pretty impossible to follow.

So instead I stay behind, turn to Morgan, and ask “Did that seriously just happen?”


	5. Just Go Home

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Elizabeth tells Reid to just drop her off at the tower and go home.

I cross my arms as our debate continues, “Please just do as I’m asking and go. Forget about me. About us. You’ve got a life now. I want you to go and live it. Please just go.”

“No,” Spen says. “I won’t. I _can_ _’t_. I'm not going to just leave you here.”

“You need to,” I say. “And you should. I’m not really…good at this.”

He snorts at my comment and I feel my nails dig into my palm.

“Good at what?”

“Managing in the world outside that tower,” I say. “You really think I'm good at doing any of this? Really? Because I'm not Spen and it's embarrassing to me.”

“So, what now you want me to apologize for having faith in you,” he asks. “Because I'm not doing that and I'm not leaving you behind.”

“I understand that,” I say. “But you need to. I can find my own way out. Don't put yourself at risk just to save me. It's not worth it. _I'm_ not worth it. And anyway, I'm probably just holding you back. So, really, it's smarter to just leave me here.”

He looks at me like I've lost my mind.

“Not worth it,” he asks “Are you insane?”

I reply with a lack of hesitation that he likely finds alarming.

“Quite probably,” I say. “Yes.”

He leans back in the driver's seat, “You aren’t. You are NOT holding me back. Okay? You’re not. So stop it with the self-hatred and let me help you. Please.”

I give him a smile that's already on its way out.

“I'd like to but I can't. Too deeply ingrained, I think. I'm sorry I have to be the one to tell you this because I like you, but sometimes you just can't save everyone Spen. You just can't. You’re too late. So go home. For your own sake, just go home.”

I start getting out but he puts his hand on my shoulder. It's nice, warm, comforting. I'm going to miss that.

I turn back to him and watch as he swallows hard, “D-Don't leave me. Don't go. Please. I need you. Way, way more than they do and I just can't let you leave me. Not until I know I can see you again.”

That stops me short. He's really serious about not leaving me, isn't he?

Finally I respond, “Well then you're just gonna have to stay here aren't you?

He takes his hand off my shoulder and sighs before turning to look straight ahead.

“If you want me to leave and never come back then just say so,” he says. And I feel guilty. Even guiltier when he adds on more.

“Better yet tell me you hate me. I mean, why wouldn't you? Most people do these days.”

My mouth opens to try and console him but the words I think of only ever sound empty so I close my mouth again.

I shake my head for his benefit, “I can’t. It’s not true.”

Spen's quiet for a moment and then talks pretty harshly to me.

“I don’t think you understood me,” he says. “What I meant was that if you want me to just abandon you to those wolves then you need to tell me and you need to do it now.”

I just smile at him sadly. I've been telling him all along.

“I _have_ been telling you. You just haven’t been listening. Now I’m sorry to say this because it means you'll be leaving but thanks for the ride. It’s been...fun.”

Then I open the front passenger door and he requests something a little...unusual.

“Promise me something?”

“Anything,” I reply. “Anything at all. What is it?”

He sighs again, “Take care of yourself. Don’t least yourself get hurt.”

“I won't.”

“Don’t-Don’t let anyone hurt you either because just thinking about that is giving me anxiety sweats. And you should really just go now because I-I _don't_ want your last memory of me to be here, now, THIS. And anyway if you don’t go now, I’m not sure I can let you go again.”

I nod, “Because you're worried I'll think you're not coming. That you just forgot. And you don't them using that though against me.”

He nods, “I also don’t want to keep you trapped like they did. So go. Before I change my mind.”

That's when I pick up on the fear that's hiding behind everything else. The fear he's too afraid too admit. That this is the last time he'll ever see me alive.

And I swallow and I nod, “Okay. Now I'm going to promise you something else.”

“What,” he asks.

“This won’t be the last,” I say.

And the look on his face, like he doesn't dare hope for that, is heartbreaking to say the least.

“What?”

So I respond as firmly as I can, “This will not be the last time you see me alive. I _refuse_ to let it be the last. And as a matter of fact, I can guarantee you that it won't be. Promise.”

“Promise,” he asks.

Then I just blink at him before I finally respond, “What?”

“Promise it won’t be the last,” he pleads.

I give him the most real smile I can manage, “Promise.”

Then he closes his eyes, turns away from me, and tightens his grip on the steering wheel.

“Then go. Now. Because if you don’t then I’m not letting you leave me. Not now, not ever.”

I nod, “Not now, not ever. Got it.”

And I carefully shut the door behind me.

 


	6. Too Many Times To Count

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Based off the idea that Reid will become the parent that constantly shows off pictures of their child to anyone who's willing to see said pictures. And also the idea that he and Elizabeth take in Sally from Burial at Sea because she's an orphan.

“You really like that little girl of yours don’t you,” Prentiss asks.

I nod, “Yeah, I do. Why?”

She just shakes her head, “Nothing. I was just wondering, how many wallet albums do you have of her?”

A smile twitches on Elizabeth’s face. The smile turns into chuckling from her and most of the others when I pull out the last one. The fifth one. It’s not even filled all the way so there’s no reason for me to carry it yet. I still do it though.

It’s more of a luck ritual than anything else. Kind of like wearing mismatched socks. I don’t want to risk breaking the pattern.

Prentiss looks up from the wallet albums and turns to Elizabeth, “How many do you have?”

Elizabeth pulls out her wallet and shows it to Prentiss, “This is it.”

Prentiss gets up to look at it and so does Garcia but no one else does. I can’t say I blame them. They’ve probably seen that picture too many times to count.


End file.
